


Thick as Thieves

by taeyongseo



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Crimes & Criminals, Found Family, Heist, Jewelry, Jisung-centric, M/M, thieves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:22:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25461631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taeyongseo/pseuds/taeyongseo
Summary: “You’re a thief, Park Jisung, and you always will be. Come home. I promise what we’re planning will be worth your time.”or a Dreamies Heist!AU
Relationships: Park Jisung/Zhong Chen Le
Comments: 57
Kudos: 442





	Thick as Thieves

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, hello! 
> 
> Welcome to my submission for the [NCT WayV Fleur Zine charity project](http://twitter.com/nctwayv_fleur) ! It's my first time writing a Jisung-centric piece so I'm very excited!! I hope you like it!! 
> 
> The usual round of disclaimers: 
> 
> The contents of this fic are for entertainment purposes only. This is a work of complete fiction. This work does not reflect upon the real life people mentioned in this fictional story, and the non-fictive people named are not affiliated with this story in any way. The story and its characters belong to me. Do not repost anywhere and do not print/distribute. (If you want a printed version, find it [here!](http://twitter.com/nctwayv_fleur))

When the time comes, they send Jaemin for him. Jisung sees him as he hops off the bus already. Jaemin’s pink hair and neck tattoo are a bit of a dead giveaway, even though Jaemin has made an effort to blend in with the evening commute crowd in his gym clothes. There's a beanie pulled so far over his head that it nearly covers his eyebrows.

Jisung keeps walking down the street, around the corner and the hundred metres to the entrance of his apartment building. There’s a daisy spray-painted onto the brick next to the rickety entrance door, vandalism to the old lady that lives across from Jisung on the top floor and a warning to anyone who would recognise his sign.

There’s an honour code, even amongst people like his kind and it’s not easily broken. If someone claims a building to build a life, you don’t move in next door. You move to the other end of town.

Jisung leaves the entrance door open.

No lock could stop Jaemin and Jisung would rather hear sooner than later what this is all about. He takes the stairs up to the fifth floor. There is an elevator, but it’s just as rickety as the front door and Jisung won’t take the chance of being locked in a metal cage with Jaemin for an extended period of time.

So, the stairs it is. He’s breathing heavily by the third floor and by the fifth, he’s pretty sure he’s sweating. He doesn’t pay the burn of his lungs any mind as he walks down the hall to his apartment door and punches in the code. He leaves that door open, too.

It takes Jaemin a cordial five minutes to catch up and by then Jisung has taken two cans of grape soda out of the fridge and is slurping on one as he reads the gardening magazine he bought at the convenience store. He wants to put a planter on the small balcony and grow some herbs, maybe one full of flowers for the railing. Maybe, he can get his hands on some delphinium seeds.

Jaemin, too, is panting when he enters his apartment and Jisung barely suppresses a smile.

“Close the door behind you, would you?”

Jisung hears a low bang and a muttered curse and then the front door is closed and Na Jaemin is inside his apartment.

He’s a little taller than Jisung remembers, his hair a little longer than it was a year ago and where his neck tattoo used to be a single cherry blossom, it’s now a whole bouquet. Jisung doesn’t miss the daisies in the design and hates how it tugs on his heart.

He decides to save them both a lot of time. “The answer is no, Jaemin.”

“Jisung,” Jaemin smiles at him with that special kind of doting, brotherly affection that was always reserved for Jisung. “How have you been?”

Jaemin moves into the apartment, taking everything in as if he’s memorising. He’s going to tell the others about every detail, Jisung realises, and wishes he had cleaned the empty take-out containers from the coffee table.

“I’ve been good. I’m a barista now.”

Jaemin hums and Jisung knows it’s because he’s refraining from saying something derogatory.

“It’s a good job,” Jisung says, “a _normal_ job. It pays the bills and keeps me out of prison.” He sets down his grape soda. “I like it.”

“Right.”

“I do.” Jisung withstands the urge to cross his arms in front of his chest.

Jaemin lightly shakes his head, laughter dancing in his eyes. It fades into something more somber. “We need you, Jisung. You have to come back to the team.”

“I don’t care, Jaemin.” And that’s what it comes down to. Jisung doesn’t care anymore. He doesn’t steal anymore. He has shedded both of these attributes that used to be so defining of him—he was a thief, a thief who cared—and has quit. He quit. He’s out of the game.

“I’m out of the game,” he says. “Ask someone else.”

“There’s no one else that could do what you do.”

Jisung smiles through gritted teeth. He knows that. “Leave, Jaemin.”

He says it harshly and it’s that that makes Jaemin actually obey his order. Because the Jisung from a year ago wasn’t harsh. The Jisung from a year ago was soft-spoken and kind and would have never stood up to Jaemin like that.

“Fine. Can I get a hug before I go?”

Jisung feels the aftertaste of sickly sweet soda in his mouth. He sighs. “Yes.”

Jaemin beams and walks towards him with wide-open arms. Jisung allows himself to lean into it when Jaemin throws his arms around his shoulders and squeezes the merry life out of him. He wouldn’t admit it if Jaemin came in swinging a gun, but he missed him. 

He misses them all.

The thought hurts so much that he nearly misses the words Jaemin whispers into his ear, masked by the wet kiss he plants on Jisung’s cheek. “You’re a thief, Park Jisung, and you always will be. Come home. I promise what we’re planning will be worth your time.”

By the time Jisung has wiped the spit off his cheek, Jaemin is gone, along with the can of grape soda Jisung placed on the counter for him. In its place is a small piece of paper, the size of a business card. Jisung picks it up and reads the details on the front, squints at the number on the back.

*

He doesn’t call the number for three days.

He buys lemonade instead of grape soda. His boss at the coffee shop scolds him for being clumsy.

On the fourth evening, he picks up his phone. It rings not even twice before the line picks up.

“Hello?”

Jisung closes his eyes. “Snowdrop? This is Daisy speaking. I request time and location.”

There’s silence on the other end of the line, then a shaky breath. “Daisy? Is it really you?”

Jisung smiles. “Positive. I request time and location. Cherry Blossom paid me a visit. He said it would be worth my time.”

The line disconnects.

Jisung lifts his phone from his ear to find a text waiting for him. Jisung memorises every letter of the address before he deletes the message. The next morning, he calls in sick at work and takes the earliest bus to Gangnam.

*

The headquarters turn out to be in an abandoned garage. There’s a salvaged car out front and the cracked asphalt is riddled with oil spills. A sign on the mesh-wire gate tells him that the building will be demolished shortly to make space for a new living complex and it makes Jisung smile, the cleverness of it all. Why hide your traces if others will flatten the earth for you.

He scours the building, walking to the back of it before he finds the employees only entry. There’s a cherry blossom spray-painted over the lock and Jisung smiles as he pushes against the metal. It opens without resistance.

He can hear their voices as soon as he is inside, and it almost makes him stumble. He does not, but there’s air missing from his lungs and his eyes flutter shut as his ears strain, his brain clinging to every unintelligible word.

The click of a gun behind him makes him open his eyes.

“This is private property.”

Jisung smiles, feeling giddy inside despite himself. “You wouldn’t shoot me now, would you?”

There’s a hitch of a breath. “Daisy?”

Slowly, Jisung reaches upwards to lower the hood of his sweatshirt. “Hi, Baby’s Breath.”

There’s the slide of the gun safety clicking back into place and then strong arms are wrapping around him from behind and he’s lifted into the air, his ribs nearly cracking with the force of Jeno’s hug. Jeno doesn’t let go of him afterwards, simply stays glued to his back as he walks them forward. He’s babbling in the way Jeno rarely does unless he’s very excited and Jisung nearly flinches when they enter the repairs floor of the garage and Jeno shouts, “Daisy’s here!”

There’s the patter of feet and then Jisung sees them appear from the shadows one by one. Renjun and Donghyuck are first, Renjun’s headset still hanging half onto his ear as he stumbles after Donghyuck. He elbows Donghyuck in the ribs to get to Jisung first and then Jisung finds himself squished from Jeno in the back and Renjun in the front at the same time while Donghyuck claims one of Jisung’s arms.

Jaemin appears next, descending the metal stairs from the second-floor bureau at a more leisure pace. On the gallery, hands curled around the rusty railing, Mark is standing and watching them from above. The way his chest is heaving tells Jisung that he ran, too.

“Daisy,” Mark calls out and Jisung smiles. 

“Long time no see, Sweet Pea.”

A slow, watery grin spreads on Mark’s features and Jisung thinks that it must have been terrible for their leader, losing two of them at once with Jisung’s departure. The moment is broken by Donghyuck finally taking out Renjun to get his own welcome cuddles in and Jisung feels his heart lighten.

“Welcome home,” Donghyuck whispers into his ear and Jisung buries his face in the other boy’s shoulder.

He’s home.

*

Mark wants to get into the details of the plan right away, never one for lasting sentimentality, but he’s quickly shut down by Donghyuck, who threatens to steal his car and sell it _again_ if he doesn’t sit down and let Jaemin feed Jisung first.

Jisung accepts the homemade dish with a growling stomach, knowing that scarfing down the food makes him just as happy as it does Jaemin watching it. Once he’s gotten in a few good bites, he decides to absolve Mark from his misery, though.

“So,” he says and grins at the way everyone immediately looks at him from where they’re scattered around the two-seater Donghyuck pushed him into. “What’s the plan?”

“Snowdrop,” Mark says and Renjun moves, disappearing into a side door before returning with a tablet.

Jisung’s eyes roam over the photo pulled up on screen. It’s a necklace, a finely crafted golden band enclosing six rubies that fall like raindrops. Or tears.

“The Red Lady. 70 billion won, 55 if we sell it in parts.”

Jisung whistles. “Pretty, but that’s some really big stones. Do we have a fence who’s willing to move something like this?”

“T-Dragon will do it for a cut of ten percent.”

Jisung nods. “Okay, then. What’s the plan? I don’t suppose we just walk into some museum and smash the glass?”

“The Red Lady is privately owned.” Renjun taps around on the screen before showing Jisung the screen, now filled with aerial shots of a countryside mansion. “The CEO of the SM Group bought it as a wedding anniversary gift for his wife October last year. It’s kept in a safe in the attic of the mansion.”

“The house is a fricking fortress,” Donghyuck remarks from where he’s sitting on the arm rest next to Jisung. “Baby’s Breath and I did the recon and let me tell you—”

“—stealing from the National Museum would be easier,” Jeno finishes.

Jisung is surprised that neither of them look particularly glum. “So, how do we get it then?”

Donghyuck grins. “The annual SM Group Halloween Ball. It’s a huge party and pretty much the only time of the year the mansion’s doors are wide open. We’ll walk in as service and get the diamonds while everyone below us is living it up.”

“What about an exit strategy? How do we get off the property?”

“We’re outsourcing,” Mark says. “One of the W boys. Lucas knows him well, told me he’s one hell of a driver.”

Jisung accepts that with a nod. He doesn’t really care about who drives the car. Not anymore. He takes the tablet from Renjun’s hands, swiping through sketches and blueprints and detailed lists of resources. It’s a solid plan, a brilliant one if he imagines it coming together.

He thinks about 8 billion won and how good of a lawyer that can buy.

“All right, then. Let’s steal some real big jewels.”

*

Jisung doesn’t like suits. Over the last year, he’s somewhat grown into his gangly limbs and unforeseen height, but suits still make him feel awkward. As if he’s just posing as an adult.

“Yo, bro, you good?”

Yangyang, their new getaway driver, looks at him from the driver’s seat, his hand stuck in the bag of chips on his lap.

Jisung shakes his head, stops himself from wringing his hands. “Just dandy.” 

“Okay, then.” Yangyang shrugs and goes back to the motorsport magazine he’s reading, propped up on the steering wheel of their van.

The sudden absence of bickering from the back of the van tells Jisung that Donghyuck is finally dressed to Mark’s satisfaction. He looks to find that Donghyuck looks appropriately spooky in his Jack Skellington costume. As the one posing as an invited guest, Donghyuck is the one supposed to draw attention. He’s flanked by Jaemin and Jeno, dressed in plain black suits that could pass as staff uniforms if one wasn’t looking too closely, similar to the stolen waiter uniforms Jisung and Mark are wearing. Halloween masks dangle from Jaemin and Jeno’s necks.

The only one not dressed is Renjun, already sitting cross-legged in front of his screens, his fingertips flying over his keyboard as he hacks into the camera surveillance.

“Okay, everyone ready? Daisy and I will leave first. Astilbe, Cherry Blossom, Baby’s Breath, wait until we give Snowdrop the okay before you follow.”

“Aye, captain!” Donghyuck yells out a little too loudly for the cramped space of their van.

Jisung knows it's Donghyuck’s way to get rid of any nervousness before he turns into the masterful con man he is. He walks over to the back doors of the van where Mark is already waiting for him. Mark gives the rest of their crew a nod before he opens the back door of the van and then they’re gone.

They enter the premises over the parking lot that’s already filled with the cars of all the other guests, their costumes making for an excellent distraction so no one sees the two waiters passing by the edge of the lot to circumvent the mansion and get to the staff entrance.

Jisung follows Mark’s lead in grabbing a random tray from one of the catering vans and follows their team leader inside.

“The second door to the left,” Renjun’s voice chimes in their ear. “Keep your heads down until you’re in the ballroom. Then you’ll be invisible.”

The kitchen is hot and bustling and Jisung is glad he thought to hydrate before this. There’s more than two dozen waiters running around, clad in the same uniform as them, and Jisung slouches his shoulders a bit, adopts a more demure posture.

“Out, out, out! Mr Lee’s guests are thirsty!” A woman with a headset yells, waving the clipboard in her arm and Jisung loses no time getting rid of the food tray he brought in to get in line for one of the trays brimming with champagne glasses.

Mark is right behind him.

The girl in charge of filling the glasses doesn’t spare him so much as a glance and Jisung bites his inner cheek to keep himself from nervously grinning as he takes the tray she pushes in his direction. Jisung’s not a con man by nature, but he’s learned some things from Donghyuck. Mark’s presence right behind him helps, too. He doesn’t think about blue lights, doesn’t think about guns blazing and red dots spotting his body. He thinks of nothing but the job he’s doing right now.

“We’re in,” he can hear Mark murmur as they enter the ballroom.

“Copy,” Renjun tells them through the comm pieces in their ears. “Sending in Astilbe, Cherry Blossom, Baby’s Breath. T-30 minutes. Don’t spill anything on anyone until then, guys.”

Jisung scoffs, just loudly enough for Renjun to hear. He splits from Mark and makes his rounds, keeping his eyes on the ground and becomes invisible. He hears more than sees it when Donghyuck enters, Jeno and Jaemin by his side, faceless with their masks.

Donghyuck is just loud enough to draw attention but not loud enough to upset the easy atmosphere of the room. Jisung marvels at how easily Donghyuck involves himself in conversation with people he has never met before and makes them think that they have.

“Daisy, Sweet Pea, Cherry Blossom, you’ve got three minutes.”

Jisung passes by a circle of middle-aged women and lets them clear his tray before he sets it down on one of the round tables dispersed in the room. He can see Mark moving at the other end of the room, can see Jaemin slipping away from Donghyuck’s side.

It’s easy to follow the path he has mapped out in his head, out the main entrance and then a sharp right, the second door to the left that leads into the staff stairway. He’s just entered the stairway when he hears someone call out outside.

Jaemin’s curse rings through his comm, nearly overtoning the stranger’s voice, “What are you doing here?”

Jisung shakes the images of iron cuffs and maniacal laughter out of his mind and slaps himself, just once to get his head straight. He can’t panic. With his expression worked into something more impassive, he slips back out onto the hallway.

“Sir!” he calls out and quickly stalks over. He bows before Jaemin. “Sir, I’m so sorry for running ahead mindlessly, I thought you were right behind me. Please, follow me so we can take care of the stain right away.”

“You better,” Jaemin’s voice is just a little too pressed, but it passes off as annoyance. “This suit costs more than your life is worth. If you had spilled something on my boss’s suit…”

Jaemin unceremoniously patted the outline of the gun strapped to his hip. It makes the house servant that had called out to him pale and Jisung quickly bows again.

“I apologise on behalf of my colleague, Sir,” the servant says. “If there is anything the house can do for you—”

“That won’t be necessary. It is of the imperative that I return to my boss’s side as quickly as possible. I’ll let this waiter show me to the nearest bathroom.”

“Of course, Sir.”

Jaemin turns away without gracing the servant’s bow with so much as a nod and Jisung is quick to follow him. They both breathe once they’re in the stairway and then Jisung squeaks when Jaemin draws him into a headlock and rubs his knuckles over his head.

“Quick thinking, little one, I’m so proud of you.”

“I’m taller than you by now.” Jisung whines, trying to free himself until the door opens once more and Jaemin lets go of him.

Mark shoots them both an unimpressed look.

“Masks on!” he says before he walks past, leading the way up the stairs. The tense set of his shoulders sobers Jisung up sufficiently and even Jaemin is quiet by the time they reach the uppermost floor. It’s harder to breathe through the Halloween mask, but Jisung practised with it.

They come to a halt at the beginning of a long corridor, and at the end, there’s a big safe door let into the wall. The cameras installed in the top corners of the wall blink menacingly, but Jisung knows that Renjun has long since replaced the live stream with looped footage. 

“You ready?” Mark asks him and Jisung nods.

“Snowdrop, initiate phase two.”

“Ready for phase two. Daisy, you feel good?”

Jisung drops into a crouch, flexes his leg muscles. “I’m ready.”

“Okay, I’m starting the timer. Daisy, it’s your show!”

Jisung wastes no time and pushes himself forward, right into the moving laser grid. He bends his upper body to evade one of the beams at chest height before he crouches low and slides under two over-crossing beams headed for his legs. One beam narrowly misses his elbow, but Jisung doesn’t waste time on relief when it passes him. He pushes himself forward.

 _The secret,_ Jisung’s old teacher Ten used to say, _is to become faster instead of stopping. Hesitation will kill you. There’s no way except forward._

Jisung steadily moves forward, bending and stretching his body to match the randomly generated patterns. He’s sweating buckets by the time he makes it to the end of the corridor, but he makes it there. He can hear Jaemin cheer for him, Mark’s cautious grunt of approval. He wastes no time looking back. 

Jisung hurries to fit the silicone glove folded in his pocket over his sweat-slick fingers and presses his index finger against the scanner next to the safe door. With a low beep, the system accepts the print Donghyuck stole from a whiskey glass at the club the SM Group’s CEO likes to frequent.

Behind him, a low whirring sound tells him that laser grid has shut off and the system asks him for the second part of the two-factor authentication. It asks for a voice sample that they don’t have and Jisung takes a step back.

“Well done,” Mark says as he moves them both out of the way and Jisung allows himself to lean onto his leader as they watch Jaemin look at the safe door with adoration.

“She’s such a beauty.” Jaemin strokes his gloved hands over the thick steel almost reverently. “It’s such a shame.”

“Focus, Cherry Blossom,” Renjun grunts over the comm line and Jaemin pouts, but gets to work.

Jisung lets Mark pull him further away into the corner while Jaemin takes his gun out of its holster and dismantles it, places the dozen dice-sized cubes that come out of the gun on the safe door, creating a circle before he connects all of the cubes with their inbuilt wire to the last cube he places in the centre.

“Astilbe,” Jaemin says, reverence for his own work in his gaze as he steps back, “it’s time for a distraction.”

Donghyuck replies with a gleeful hum and all three of them in the attic hold their breath until they hear a crash that is loud enough to travel up to their floor, followed by screams and Jeno’s low chuckle.

Jaemin wastes no time hitting the red button on the last cube and then runs into the corner where Mark and Jisung are already waiting. He tries to cover them with his body, but Mark grabs him by the collar and shoves him into Jisung, taking the outer position instead.

The wall vibrates with the force of the miniature explosions blowing the bolts of the safe door, heat rushing over Jisung’s hair and skin as the air fills with smoke and molten steel drips onto the floor, burning through the hard wood.

“Six minutes,” Renjun yells into their ear and they move.

Mark heaves the safe door open and Jisung goes through first, Jaemin hot on his heels. Jisung’s heart skips a beat as he sees what they came for, the Red Lady bedded on a podium of black velvet, protected by a vitreous display case.

Jaemin uses the remnant frame of his gun to smash it, glass scattering everywhere. There’s no alarm that goes off, but Jisung knows it’s there, a dozen police cars being silently dispatched towards their location right this moment.

He grabs the jewels and a laughing Jaemin and books it for the door. They collect Mark on the way out, who’s rummaging through a stack of boxes, undoubtedly stuffed full with more valuables.

“No time to be greedy, boss.”

Jisung is thankful when Mark leaves without any protests. Their leader’s wearing a giddy smile, undoubtedly brought upon by the 70 billion won worth of jewels currently clutched in Jisung’s fist.

“Snowdrop, commence exit strategy.”

“Astilbe and Baby’s Breath are on their way out,” Jeno’s breathless voice comes through the comm. In the background, Jisung hears another crash.

“There goes the champagne pyramid,” Donghyuck sing-songs before joining in on the outraged clamour of the guests.

“We drop in 60 seconds,” Mark says and they sprint down the stairs to the third floor. The house has four, but the uppermost doesn’t offer any windows. “Jisung, you go first.”

While Mark shoots the grappling hook into the opposite wall and fixes the wire, Jaemin detonates the window screen before helping Jisung through.

“Don’t drop the jewels, Daisy.”

Jisung scoffs, but squeezes Jaemin’s hand before letting go. Mark hands him the wire and Jisung hooks it into his belt. There’s little time so he pushes off. He sacrifices a soft landing in favour of unhooking earlier and sending the rope back up. Jaemin comes down next and Jisung does his best to help him land before the rope zips up once more.

Mark is halfway down when there’s voices ringing through the blasted window and Jisung can see silhouettes appear in the light.

“Cut the rope, Sweet Pea!” Jaemin bellows. “We’ll catch you!”

Mark does, his body dropping like deadweight and Jisung braces himself for impact. The faster a mass moves through space the heavier it becomes. Jisung is thankful Mark was never that bulky to begin with. A pained cry escapes their leader when he crashes to the ground and Jisung hears it when his ankle breaks. They caught his fall, but only the worst of it.

“Snowdrop!” he yells. _Not again,_ he prays. _Not another one._ “Extraction, now!”

There’s the screeching of brakes and then their van rounds the corner of the mansion. The backdoors are open and Jisung starts running, dragging Mark along with Jaemin’s help.

Jeno and Donghyuck are standing at the edge of the bed, yelling at them to hurry. They pull Mark into the van and then Jaemin. Jisung feels his lungs close to bursting, his legs threatening to give out but he jumps and he is caught, Jeno’s breathless voice in his ear whispering that he’s got him.

Jisung doesn’t allow himself to collapse until the doors of the van are pulled shut behind him and Donghyuck is yelling at Yangyang to step on it. They all fall forward at the sudden surge of tempo, but Jisung is pretty sure he would’ve fallen to his knees anyways.

“Did you get it?” Renjun asks as he rips his headphones from his head. 

“I have the jewels,” Jisung says but Renjun pays him no mind.

Renjun is clutching onto Mark, who’s lying flat on his back.

He’s clearly in pain, but a slow, exhausted grin spreads on Mark’s face as he reaches into the inner pocket of his uniform and procures a small, lengthy block of metal. It’s a data key, Jisung realises when Renjun snatches it from Mark and pops off the cap.

“What is that?” Jisung asks. He feels anger rise in his chest when he notices that no one else seems to be surprised. Betrayal makes bile rise in his throat. “You did a side job without telling me?”

“Daisy—” Mark tries but Jisung doesn’t want to hear it.

“No!” he shakes his head, feeling tears burn behind his eyelids. “This is what happened last time! This is what happened when—” He can’t say it.

He presses his palms against his eyes, wills the images to leave him. Blue lights, a silent alarm turned blaring, red dots spotting not his chest, iron cuffs not closing around his wrists. Jisung was hiding then. He was hiding like a coward. He has been hiding ever since.

A gentle hand pries his palms away from his eyes.

“Jisung,” Jaemin’s voice is as gentle as his touch and Jisung chokes on his own betrayal, “we’re sorry we didn’t tell you.”

“We would have,” Renjun says, looking uncharacteristically meek, “but we didn’t want to get your hopes up.”

“Hopes up for what?” Jisung sniffs.

The van turns a sharp corner and they slide a couple of centimetres to the right. Jeno crawls over to throw his arms around Jisung, his smile telling Jisung that he won’t stop hugging him until Jisung has forgiven them, whenever that may be. 

Renjun lifts his hand. “This data key contains some sensitive information. It regards government officials, high-profile public figures, and the likes. SM Group is entangled with them all, a lot of corruption and money going around.”

“Enough to bring some people behind bars who’d rather stay outside of them,” Jeno adds lowly.

“So, what?” Jisung still brims with anger. “We nearly got caught for some vigilance public service mission?”

“No,” this time it’s Mark who speaks. “We’re thieves, Jisung, we’re not that good.”

“We’re going to use it,” Donghyuck’s grin is wicked. “Blackmail some people.”

“For money?”

Jaemin grins. “Nah, that’s what the jewels are for. We’re gonna ask for something indefinitely more precious.”

“Invaluable,” Mark agrees. 

Jisung looks them in the eye, one by one and understands, piece by piece. Renjun seems to understand _him_ as he meets Jisung’s gaze.

“You already know, don’t you?”

Jisung nods, and slowly, he curls into Jeno’s embrace, allows the tears he’s been holding in to fall. He holds tight, feels more people join their embrace. He has underestimated his team, he thinks and cries a little out of shame too. He should’ve trusted them, his brothers that never stopped looking for him even when he left.

He opens his eyes and sees the tattoo on Jaemin’s neck, the bouquet made up of flowers. There’s seven in number.

*

It’s a hot summer’s day, the day they take two cars to Uiwang. Jisung rides with Donghyuck in his new super car, top down and radio blasting. He savours the tingling in his stomach whenever Donghyuck speeds ahead.

It doesn’t take them long to reach their destination and Jisung feels impatience tug on his nerves, his leg jiggling until Donghyuck places a hand on his thigh.

“Calm down, Sungie. Can’t have you dropping dead from a heart attack before we’ve even made it through the gate.”

As if summoned, the gate before them slides open and they roll onto the gravelled parking lot. Jisung forces his limbs to still. It doesn’t help the pounding of his heart.

He waits in the car, mostly because Donghyuck _and_ Jaemin force him to. “Lest you run in there,” Jaemin tells him. “It’s way easier getting into prison then out, you know.”

Jisung knows that. There’s still no stopping him once the high metal gate separating the inner yard of the prison from the parking lot draws open. He climbs over the back of his seat and slides down the trunk of the super car. Donghyuck will forgive him for the sneaker marks.

His plan was to run so he’d get the first hug in, but there’s no air left in his lungs once he sees the lone figure step over the threshold of the gate, into the sun.

“Delphinium!” Jaemin cheers and then he and Jeno are surging forward. They’ve barely touched Chenle before they’re elbowed out of the way by a hobbling Mark who does get the first hug in. He’s promptly removed by Donghyuck and Renjun, who uses his slighter stature to squeeze himself into the middle of it all.

It all ends in a big group hug and Jisung can’t breathe, can’t breathe past the overwhelming relief he feels, the all-encompassing joy. His vision blurs with tears. It doesn’t clear until they’re wiped away by calloused fingers.

He blinks and then Chenle is standing in front of him, shooting him the same grin from a thinner face than Jisung remembers. There’s the same joy in his eyes that Jisung feels.

“Hey, Sungie,” Chenle’s happiness makes his voice rise high. “Miss me?”

Jisung only nods, an ugly sob escaping him before he’s throwing his arms around Chenle, clinging tight.

“Sorry,” bubbles out of his throat, but Chenle only laughs at him.

“Don’t apologise, sweet Daisy. I told you to run and hide and you did that. I’m so proud of you.”

“Sorry,” Jisung repeats because he doesn’t have any other words, but Chenle understands. He’s always understood Jisung even when he didn’t know how to express his feelings.

“Hey, what about us?” Jaemin bemoans before Renjun elbows him in the ribs. “Ow! I’m just saying! We helped free him!”

Chenle doesn’t let go of Jisung when he turns to the rest of their friends. “I have so many hugs and stories for you all, but first I want to get out of this place. I’ve been here long enough, I never want to see these godforsaken brick walls again.”

“We have an apartment for you. Well, actually it’s a whole complex. Daisy picked your apartment. It’s nice, top floor and all. You’ll like it.”

“A whole complex? Just from the earnings of one cut?” Chenle whistles. “You’ve been busy while I was gone. Did you find a better driver than me?”

“Never.” Donghyuck throws his keys at Chenle. “Don’t crash, she’s brand new.”

Chenle’s eyes widen as he sees the branding on the key. Then a brilliant smile takes over his face, softens when he looks at Jisung. “You’re riding with me, Sungie? I wanna hear all about what you did while I was gone.”

Jisung nods, words still failing him so he leads the way over to the car. He gets into the passenger seat and watches with fondness as Chenle drapes himself over the hood of Donghyuck’s car, screaming in joy before he all but dives onto the driver’s seat.

Jeno’s SUV pulls of the parking lot first, but Jisung knows that Chenle will have overtaken the rest of their team in no time.

“I missed this,” Chenle all but moans as he revs the engine and then looks at Jisung, eyes twinkling, “but only half as much as I missed you, Sungie.”

“I missed you too.” Jisung finally manages a grin, if it’s shaky. “I’m so glad you’re back.”

He buckles himself in and rests his arm on the window sill. In the sun, the ring on his fourth finger sparkles, a splinter of ruby casting red dots onto the interior of the car. This time, they don’t scare him.

There’s flowers engraved into the silver. A band made of sweet peas, snow drops, baby’s breath, astilbes, cherry blossoms and closest to the stone, there’s a daisy on one side and a delphinium on the other. 

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is part of the [NCT WayV Fleur Zine charity project](http://twitter.com/nctwayv_fleur) so please check it out, if you have the time and liked this fic! There's art and a fic for every member! 
> 
> Also, if you liked this, please leave me a kudos and/or comment! 
> 
> ( [twitter](http://twitter.com/taeyongseo) | [curiouscat](http://curiouscat.me/taeyongseo) )


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